The Yowlet got invited to a birthday party of one of the kids in his
"preschool" class (we cna't say 'daycare', because thats where *babies* go,
Mum!). Uusally such birthday parties consist of going to some fast food
outlet or dedicated 'softplay' centres with about 10 or so other kids of
about the same age (plus a few hangers-on that are the siblings of the
various invitees) run around like mad more about an hour on the provdied
equioment, and, once too exhausted to play any further, fuel up on sugar and
fried crap, sing happy birthday, poke at the cake and then go home with
another bag of sugar as a reward for the mother (No! its for me! honest!)
actually surviving the 2 hours of noise and madness.

But this was John's party. I don't know the detaisl exactly, but John's Mum
has to go away on business alot and he often shows up to other kid's
birthdays and even daycare, oops, I mean preschool, with his grandmother,
Myra. I have never seen John's father at any of the Daycare events, but am
not going to be rude enough to ask about the details.

John is a nice kid and I like the Yowlet to play with him and his other
mate, Bailey, rahter than some of the other kids - they are alot rougher and
Cary, despite his energy, is a rather gentle creature in comparison. John's
party really demonstrated this.

John's Mum, Narelle, had gone all out. Instead of 10 kids at some fast food
outlet, she'd rented the local community centre and had invited the entire
student body of the daycare centre - agood 40 or 50 kdis under 5, plus all
their siblings. She had hired ponies for pony rides, which Cary absolutely
*loved* and he kept going back long after the novelty of pony rides had worn
off for the other kids (sohe got *lots* of rides near the end).

The giant jumping castle was abit too much for Cary - he doesn't like rough
play and the bigger kids ended up monopolising it, so the little kids and
the less confident (including the Yowlet) ended up not being able to go on
it.

And Narelle had hired two clowns as well, to entertain the kids (and
adutls). The clowns did simple magic tricks, some basic acrobatics, and
played various simple games with the kids all with prizes.

They also made things out of ballons. Most of the kids wanted -and got-
swords. Cary wanted - and got - a balloon doggy which he hugged and talked
to, rather than beating up the other jids with (as they were, with the
swords). The balloon doggy, which by some miracle, has survived the whole
party and two night sof being loved, is still with us, and there will be
tears when the balloon doggy eventually goes to balloon doggy Rainbow bridge
as all balloon creatures do.

But it was the face painting that convinced me that I have a truly dedicated
slave. Whilst every other single boy at the party opted to be painted like
Spiderman, or  a Pirate, or The Incredible Hulk, or a Zombie, or some
horribel sort of Monster, Cary, bless his little fur-dominated heart,
specifically asked to be a kittycat.

So my dear little Yowlet got his face painted as a blue kitty-cat, and spent
the rest of the day saying 'meow' and wanting to be patted and scritched
under the chin.

He was so sad when we had to wash (what was left of it) it off that night...

But it proves to me that he is growing into one heck of a catslave if he
wanted to be a kittycat over all the other gross things that little boys
want to be!

Yowie